Sister Eve and the Blue Nun (16 page)

BOOK: Sister Eve and the Blue Nun
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The woman blew out a breath and shook her head. “You're right about that. I was betrayed long before Kelly came on campus.” She sneered. “Did Dr. Middlesworth know that you seem to enjoy the Intro to Religion course the most? The freshmen, I mean? The girls?”

He started to move toward the woman, his hands clenched into fists and his face tight with anger. Eve quickly stepped between them as Dr. Taylor turned to walk away.

“Face it, Peter, your girlfriend is dead and those precious pages are not coming to you.” Lauren paused and then moved back to where he stood. “Tell me, did she agree to marry you even with all those gambling debts? Or did you fail to mention that to her too?”

He started in her direction, but Eve held him by the arm.

“It's always good to see you, Peter dear,” was the last thing they heard as she made her exit.

TWENTY-THREE

“How I ever fell in love with that . . .” He stopped and glanced over at Eve. “I'm sorry,” he said, appearing to be trying to regain his composure. He waved away the thought and shook his head. “I don't know why she came,” he added.

“Well, it sounds like it might have been the same reason as you,” Eve replied, watching for his response.

“Kelly called and asked me to come; I seriously doubt Lauren received the same call.” He leaned against the front of the car and slid his fingers through his wavy brown hair.

“When did she call?” Eve asked.

The professor seemed confused. “What?”

“Kelly. When did she call?”

“I'm not exactly sure,” he said without giving a direct answer.

“You said yesterday, is that right? Is that when she called and told you about the writings her brother had found?”

He shook his head. “I don't recall; we might have spoken before yesterday.”

“Did she make you aware that she told her brother about you?” Eve wondered how much the professor actually knew about what had been happening at the monastery between the two siblings. “Did she tell you that he was really angry at her for telling you about the writings?”

Peter peered closely at Eve. “What is your role here?” he asked, skirting the question again.

Eve didn't want to change the subject, but it was a viable question. She knew she was starting to sound like a police officer.

“I used to live here, be a part of the community,” she answered. “Since the sisters had to leave, I'm deciding where to go. But I'm here this weekend because of the conference. I value the work of Sister Maria; I'd like to see the beatification process completed. I'd like to see her become a saint. She deserves it.”

“You sound like Kelly.”

“Yeah?”

He nodded. “Yeah. She wasn't a faithful Catholic, not like her brother and her parents, but she'd felt connected to this nun ever since she first studied her, was devoted to seeing her reach sainthood. It was almost like a personal challenge for her.”

Eve thought about Kelly, how excited she was when she talked about the Spanish nun. The research, the facts, the story—she did seem to make this her life's passion; she did want to see Sister Maria make it to full sainthood. Eve glanced over at Dr. Pierce and saw that he was tearing up again. He cleared his throat and took a moment to pull himself together.

“But now she'll never get to see if that happens.” He shook his head.

“What was she going to do with the papers?”

“What?” He didn't seem to follow the line of conversation.

“The papers that Anthony had given Kelly—what was she going to do with them?”

He shrugged. “She was going to report them today at the keynote, and then I'm not sure after that.”

“Did you have any ideas for her?” Eve leaned in.

He turned to her and gave her a slight smile. “You're not very good at this, Sister,” he said.

She was confused. “Not very good at what?”

“You want to know if I'm the killer, don't you? You think I showed up last night and stole the papers and murdered Kelly.”

Eve didn't respond.

“Well, I didn't, okay?”

Eve could hear voices coming near them. She glanced around and saw the group from Santa Clara heading to their van. It looked as if they were leaving.

“She was dead when I got here,” he added.

Eve nodded.

Their conversation stopped while they watched the students and professors load their stuff in the back and get in their vehicle. She waved at them as they left the parking area.

“But if she hadn't been dead,” Eve said, returning to the conversation, “what did you think she should do with the papers that were found? What advice had you given her?”

“If she had what she said she had, they were worth a lot of
money.” He gave Eve a measured nod. “Is that what you want to know? Had I researched how much money we could make on the discovery?”

“We?” Eve had heard the slip.

“I was going to ask Kelly to marry me. I bought a ring before she left, and I was going to give it to her when she got back. When she called me with this news, I thought it would be perfect to give it to her while we were here.”

“And I suppose that if someone wanted to verify your claim that the ring was bought before you got here last night, you could produce that dated receipt.”

The professor smiled again. “I sort of get the feeling that I need to have a lawyer present when I'm talking to you.”

Eve returned the smile. “Do you need a lawyer, Dr. Pierce?”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a receipt. “Not that this is any of your business, but I wasn't here at the time of the murder.”

She took the receipt from him. It was from an airline company, a claim that he had bought a ticket for a flight that was in the air at the time of Kelly's death estimated by the coroner. She handed it back to him. “You could have bought two tickets, arrived earlier. That's not hard to check.”

“How well did you know her brother?” he asked, surprising Eve. “Anthony? Hasn't he suddenly disappeared? Doesn't everyone think he did this? Wasn't there a big fight of some kind?”

Eve didn't answer him, but his question did confirm that he knew about the conflict at dinner; Kelly had spoken to him earlier the night she was killed.

They both noticed the detectives when the two men rounded the corner of the row of guest rooms. And then she got an idea.

“I'm not sure you know this, Professor, but in my role here at the monastery, I am often privy to stories of a sort of . . .” She paused before continuing. “How should I say it? Intimate nature.”

The professor cocked his head. She had his attention even though she wasn't completely sure of what she was doing.

“Kelly and I talked, Dr. Pierce, yesterday. And she told me some things about her research, her concerns. She gave me something to hold for her, a page.” Eve stopped, turned, and watched the detectives. She hoped she sounded convincing.

“A page from what?” The eagerness was easily detected.

Eve didn't answer. She paused, deciding less was more. “It was nice to meet you, Dr. Pierce. I'm sure we'll see each other again.” And she started to make her exit.

“That's it?” he called to her.

She turned back.

“No condolences, no ‘I'm sorry for your loss,' nothing?” He paused. “I thought you religious people were more empathetic than the rest of us. I thought you'd have more to say to me than that.”

“I'm sorry for your loss, Dr. Pierce,” she said with a slight smile.

He seemed to be studying her. “Go say your prayers, Sister,” he responded as he made his way to a vehicle parked next to the Subaru.

TWENTY-FOUR

Eve was hopeful that the detectives would not notice her as she tried to exit the parking lot and head up to the main building, but she was too late. As Dr. Peter Pierce drove past her, Detective Bootskievely motioned her to join them. She took in a breath and headed toward them.

“You did a nice job with the press,” she said to Detective Bootskievely as she made it to where they were standing. “I guess Our Lady of Guadalupe Abbey is now the headline story for New Mexico.”

The older officer scratched his chin. “Somebody apparently tweeted from here.”

“I'm sorry,” Eve responded, not understanding the reference.

“Tweet,” he repeated and then held out his thumbs like he was texting on a smart phone. “It's the latest way to get your news,” he added.

Eve shrugged. “Sorry, I don't know about that.”

Detective Lujan smiled, and Eve felt that funny tumbling feeling again. She tried to shake it off. “So, I heard the line you gave the reporters, but do you have anything new?”

Bootskievely shook his head. “It's still early, so at this point, everything's new.”

Eve nodded, counting down the hours since the murder. It had not yet been twenty-four.

“You know Dr. Pierce?” Boots wanted to know, the apparent real reason he had called her over.

“No,” she answered, guessing they were curious about her conversation. “I had heard that he was upset, and I just wanted to make sure he knew there were resources for him if he needed any support while he stayed here.” She touched her chest first and then dropped her head, a kind of bow.

“Yes, yes,” the older detective said. “Of course, you would be doing your ministry here,” he added, nodding.

She felt Detective Lujan's eyes on her.

“We've asked him to stay awhile,” Boots added, watching the car as it moved out of the gate and onto the main road. “He and the victim were apparently close.”

Eve glanced back up at Boots. “Sounds like it, yes,” she responded. “Colleagues at the University of Texas.”

“Now, Sister, you might not know about tweeting, but I'm somehow guessing you know they were more than colleagues.” Boots leaned back with his hands on his hips, exposing his badge and gun. He winked.

“I could certainly see that he was taking the news of her death pretty hard, yes,” she answered, not taking the bait. “If you asked
him to stay, why is he leaving the grounds?” She knew they had watched him exit.

“He's not under house arrest.” Boots paused for a minute. “Going to buy deodorant. I don't know. He's free to come and go, just not go and stay away.”

Eve nodded. It made sense even if she did worry he would disappear.

“How did he seem to you?” Boots asked.

Eve glanced to where she had been talking to the professor. “Sad, sure; upset.” She turned back to the detectives. “Is he a suspect?”

Boots smiled, winked at his partner, and nodded at Evangeline. “Daughter of Captain Jackson Di-
vine
,” he said, holding out the last syllable, making sure to pronounce it correctly. “Darling, at this stage, everybody's a suspect.”

She nodded.

“Even you,” he said and then started to laugh.

The tease startled Eve, and she didn't quite know how to respond.

“All right, Earl, you get on the phone and call up forensics, see what news they got for us from the tox screen about the brand of poison our killer likes to use.” He glanced back at Eve. “You ever hear from the monk?”

“I'm sorry.” Eve was confused again.

He pulled a pad out of his front pocket and opened it, glanced down, and then closed it before putting it back. “Anthony,” he replied. “The victim's brother, the one who's missing, the one who had a fight with her, stole something from Isleta. Brother Anthony, you heard from him this morning?”

“I have not heard from Brother Anthony,” she answered sincerely.

“Well, if he calls you, you'll let us know, right?” Boots reached up and pulled at the collar of his shirt.

“I doubt he will call me,” she replied.

“Yes, but?” Boots wanted a promise.

“Yes, if he calls me, I will definitely let you know.”

“Good, that's good.” He stretched and then patted his stomach. “I'm going to go back to the scene, take another look at things, try to figure out why the cup the victim was holding fell and broke like it did. So far, that doesn't quite make any sense to me with where she landed.”

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